Sand, Sugar, and Salt: The Lost Chapter
by binaryguppy
Summary: Candace and Dakota are reunited at long last on prom night, but the story doesn't end there. They have unfinished business...business that was interrupted by Auntie and Boris mere seconds before it got hot and heavy. This 'lost' chapter discloses everything about Candy and Dake's first time. ...Everything. (Hence the M rating. You have been warned.) Lemon/One-Shot.


**A/N: **Okay... So, this is meant as a one-shot that I couldn't include in a longer DakexOC story I wrote ("Sand, Sugar, and Salt") because I didn't want to jeopardize its T rating. (For those who read SSS, it fits in just after Dake reappears at Candace's prom, and months before the epilogue.)

The content is extremely explicit. I'm not even kidding. It's my first try at something so overtly sexual; I have no intention of offending anyone. Any feedback in the form of reviews or PMs would help tremendously! ~binaryguppy

* * *

**Chapter 49.5: The Lost Chapter**

"Candace, wake _up_!"

"Wha…?"

"Don't you think it's about time you got _up_? It's _four_ in the afternoon! You've been asleep all _day_!"

"Heh..."

I chuckled tiredly as I woozily sat up in bed. I didn't know what else Auntie expected. I'd had _quite_ the night last night, and I knew I'd have to sleep well into the afternoon in order to recover.

My hair was an absolute mess, tangled with gobs of hairspray from my ruined prom curls, and crusty with dried ocean salt. I probably still had some makeup on my face, though most of it had been washed away by the waves when Dake and I went for a late-night frolic on the beach.

_…Dake._

Thinking back to last night was like remembering a dream that was too good to be real. Six months had gone by without so much as a text or a phone call, and just when I was sure Dakota Halloran had forgotten all about me, the surfer who stole my heart last summer crashed my senior prom and swept me off my feet yet again—and this time, for good.

He told me he _loved_ me, and I _so_ loved him back.

I loved him so much I wanted to give him _everything_—but before I could, my Auntie and his Uncle Boris found us in the backseat of my parked car at the beach and made us go back to our (their) respective homes.

Before we had to tell each other good night, I asked Dake to come to my house tonight after my Auntie left for work. He promised me he would.

That is, if all of that really happened. Maybe it _was_ a dream. It was too good to actually happen to me…

"I have to get going soon," Auntie was telling me, but I was barely listening. "I won't be back from this job until late, since it's a two-hour drive each way. I should be home before midnight." She turned to leave my room, probably to go put on into whatever costume tonight's unspecified party or event required, but changed her mind with a snap of her fingers. "Oh, and before I forget, I have a little _project_ for you to work on while I'm away."

_Oh, Christ._ I coughed, trying to clear my throat enough to talk without my voice cracking. "What is it, Auntie?"

"I brought your car back from the beach _by myself_ earlier today, because you were out like a light and I couldn't wake you up."

So it _was_ real! It was all real! Dake was real! He was really coming tonight!

_He might even be on his way now…!_

I tried not to squeal as Auntie gave me the specifics of her 'project.' "I want the inside of that car as spotless as it was when I gave it to you brand new. I don't want to see a _single_ grain of sand in that backseat. And while you're at it, you can wash and wax the outside, too. Am I understood?"

She wasn't normally this strict, but I knew I'd stepped way out of line by disappearing from the prom last night so that I could mess around with Dake. I could tell she was furious, and I really was sorry for making her worry. "Yes, Auntie," I acknowledged.

Auntie softened her frown, her penciled brows slanting downward. She must have felt guilty for yelling at me, even if her anger was justified. "That's my Sweetie. Be a _good_ girl, now. Stay home tonight—and _don't_ do anything _I_ wouldn't do," she emphasized, pointing a chipped gold fingernail at me.

"Um… I won't?" I mumbled feebly.

I took a long, much-needed shower, scrubbing the salt out of my skin until it was raw. Then I made the mistake of running a sharp razor over my legs and underarms, turning my white skin pink from irritation. I seriously considered cutting off all my hair. It took so long to untangle the gritty knots that Auntie had already left for work by the time I reemerged from the bathroom.

Since I was supposed to be washing my car and getting all wet anyway, I didn't bother to dry my hair. I let it hang down my back, still dripping wet. The only bathing suit I had was my skimpy purple bikini, so I put on a plain white t-shirt and a pair of cotton shorts over it for the sake of saving my tortured skin from the harsh rays of the sun—and sparing my neighbors from unwarranted views of my nearly-naked body through the windows of their half of the duplex.

The faster I got this done, the quicker I'd be able to enjoy Dake again. The very thought of _enjoying_ Dake was making me so anxious my hands shook as I carried the bucket containing all the necessary car-washing supplies outside and set it down on the driveway beside my faithful white Accord. I unfurled the green garden hose from where it had been coiled and turned the water spigot on.

Every time I dunked my sponge into the bucket, every time I turned back to scrub the car, I found myself peering over my shoulder, crossing my fingers for Dake to be there. Almost an hour went by, and I finished washing and drying the outside and sweeping the sand from the backseat, but still no sign of Dake.

I sighed, moodily peeling back the lid on the canister of car wax. _Why didn't I ask him for his number last night when I had the chance?_ I knew Auntie had Boris' number; I saw them exchange business cards last night when they were chaperoning the prom. Maybe Aunite would call Boris and get Dake's number for me, if I told her I only wanted to _talk_ to him _on the phone_…

No, she'd never buy that.

Don't_ do anything _I_ wouldn't do… _Yeah, right, Auntie!

A phantom hand coiled itself around my waist, and I screeched loud enough for the whole block to hear—and I didn't even care. I had better things to worry about.

"Dake!"

I was whole again in his strong arms. My hands scrambled up to his bronze hair, pulling him down so that I could reach his snickering mouth with my own. His kiss was flavored with tingly cinnamon toothpaste; he must have woken up not too long ago, like I had.

I flung myself away from him only to fill my lungs with air. I gasped, half laughing, half hyperventilating, and he laughed with me.

A glance up and down the street confirmed that Dake must have walked here, since his Uncle's Trailblazer was nowhere to be seen. "How did you get Boris to let you out again?" I breathed giddily. "You didn't sneak out, did you?"

"Me? Sneak out? Nah," he drawled. "Let's just say he knows where I am, but he's under the impression your Auntie is here, too."

I fussed with the still-moist ends of my hair, twirling them between restless fingers. "_Good_. We should _definitely_ keep him under that impression."

He tilted his head, and his hand found its way to my cheek. "Are you feeling alright, Love? Since last night?"

"Never better, b-but I probably look like hell right now," I stammered, letting my insecurity get the best of me. I lowered my eyes to see my purple bikini top blatantly showing through my sopping t-shirt.

_Great. I'm sure the neighbors are appreciating this view…_

Dake's eyes lustfully followed mine down to my chest and stayed there. He cracked a devilish smile. "You look like _heaven_ to me." He dove in for another kiss, one arm supporting my back, hugging me close—the other sneaking around to my front, boldly taking a handful of my right breast and squeezing gently.

He'd never touched me that way before. It sent prickles all through my chest that made me want to…

I didn't even know what I wanted, but I knew I wanted it badly.

He leaned forward, bending me back, and pinned me against the hood of the car. He kissed me with so much fervor and intensity it made me weak in the knees. I was glad he was holding me, or else I would have slid onto the hard pavement.

"_Daaaake_," I whined when he freed up my mouth to kiss my neck, "we can't be doing this out here where people can _see_ us!"

He was so close to my ear he barely had to move his lips at all. "Well, then, what do you say we go have a naughty in your room?" he rumbled. "Pick up from where we left off last night?"

"Have a _naughty_?" I repeated, trying to imitate an Australian accent, but butchering it dismally. "Oh my God, that's _adorable_!" I hid behind a flirty smile, but inside I was having a conniption fit. Everything was happening so fast. Minutes ago, I was aching for him, and now that he was here, he was making me ache for him in a new, exciting, different way.

"_You're_ the one who's adorable." He stood up straight and pulled me to my feet, holding onto my hand like a gentleman—but what he said next was far from gentlemanly. "Oh, Candy… If you only knew what I was thinking about last night after I had to leave you."

"You _have_ to tell me now," I giggled.

"I was thinking of how badly I want to make love to you. I don't just want you anymore. I _need_ you."

We _needed_ to move this operation inside, or I was in danger of stripping off my clothes and begging him to take me right there in the middle of the driveway.

"Won't you come in?" I suggested coyly. "I'll show you my room."

Waxing the car was immediately abandoned, and we raced each other to the front door. I slammed it behind us and locked it, throwing one more paranoid glance out the window before I dragged Dake to my room by the wrist and shoved him onto my bed.

Between heated, frenzied kisses, he peeled off my wet t-shirt and pulled off my shorts, dropping both onto the floor with a _plop_. I tugged his Billabong graphic tee off over his head and threw it I-didn't-care-where, as long as it was off. From under his clothes, his tattoos reappeared, greeting me like old friends. I must have been going insane, because I could have sworn the eye of the shark on his breast winked at me.

His shorts came off, then his boxers.

Everything was right there before my eyes.

"I…"

I'd never even seen a man's penis before, aside from the illustrations in my middle school health textbook—which did not do Dake's justice _at all_. I fell to my knees in front of where he sat perched on the edge of my bed.

He misinterpreted my slack-jawed admiration. "We don't have to, if you're not ready," he assured me again like he had last night.

I tore my eyes away from it to look up at him. "No, Dake, I _want_ to."

He brought his hands to my face, gently caressing my cheeks. "You're sure?"

"_Yes_." I didn't mean for it to, but my 'yes' came out in the form of a desperate moan. "I've never wanted anything more"—and that was the absolute truth.

He nodded resolutely, and his lips parted into a sexy smile. "If you want me, I'm yours."

I felt his cock with my fingers, softly at first, trying to get used to the feel of it. It was softer than any part of his body, and paradoxically hard at the same time—and growing harder as I acquainted myself with it. The foreskin protecting the fleshy head pulled away, conceding to the will of my curious hands when I gently stroked it.

Dake took deep breaths in and out and combed my hair with jittery fingers. "It… It doesn't bother you that I'm not circumcised?" he said out of nowhere.

"Uh…" I took my hand away, unsure of why he went out of his way to draw attention to that. "W-why would _that_ bother me?" I eked out, unable to control my stutter.

_Should it bother me? Should I have already known about this ahead of time? I don't even know the difference… I'm so unprepared…_

Dake shrugged. "I thought American girls… They're supposed to think it's gross."

I let out a nervous bray of laughter. "Dake, American or not, I am a _virgin_. I am _clueless_. Yours is the first one I've ever seen. And so far, it's my favorite." I rubbed it with both hands now, marveling at its size. I giggled like the immature little schoolgirl I was and looked up at my boyfriend with a wide-mouthed smile. "I think I'll call him…South Dakota."

Dake guffawed and fell backwards onto the bed, his abs rippling with every heaving breath. "If mine's South Dakota, yours is the Candy Shop." He propped himself up on his elbow to look down at me with a raised eyebrow. "Will you let me lick the lollipop?"

"I don't know what that even _means_," I said, still giggling uncontrollably, "but I'll let you do whatever you want…because I love you."

"And I love you," he returned.

Hearing him say it still made me question whether or not I was in reality. I was afraid I would wake up tomorrow in a padded cell and learn that Dake and everything I did with him was part of a delusion I'd created out of insanity and uncontrollable lust.

"Why don't you give me a kiss?" he purred.

"Okay…"

I didn't even realize my mouth had been watering until I opened it to kiss Dake's waiting cock. My lips closed around his exposed head, and I gave it the tiniest of licks; I wanted to know what he tasted like.

He arched his back and gasped. "I meant for you to come up _here_ and give me a kiss on the _mouth_!"

_Oh, God, I'm fucking everything up…_

"I-I'm sorry, I didn't know—"

"No, _don't_ be sorry. That feels _amazing_. You're so warm…"

Reassured by his approval, I got braver, and opened my mouth to take his cock in all the way.

He filled my entire mouth all the way back to my throat. I pressed him in as far back as he would go, then slowly pulled him out again, raking the underside with my tongue. I could feel him twitching and pulsating in time with his heartbeat, and he got harder still.

He fell flat on his back, his eyes rolling back in his head in sweet agony. "_Oh_, my _God_, Candy…!"

The longer I sucked him, the sweeter the pet name he called me was. When "Baby" and "Sugar" and "Love" were no longer adequate, he gave up on choosing words and instead let out sounds I'd never heard him make before—pleasured moans and shuddering gasps.

He finally yanked himself out of my mouth, the suction making a wet _pop_. A sticky string of drool stretched from my bottom lip to his soaking wet head.

"_No_, you can't do it like that," he pleaded breathlessly, sitting up bolt straight.

"Did I hurt you?" I wiped the spit from my chin with the back of my wrist, abashed at the awful mess I was making. "Am I doing it wrong?"

"No, no, it's not that! I just…" He laughed, stroking my hair with slightly trembling fingers. "I won't last long, if you keep that up. I can't believe you can do that without gagging. You're…really, _really_ good at that."

Hearing him say that took my breath away. It was a massive relief to know that I was doing _something_ right—_very_ right, judging from the way he was looking at me.

He narrowed his eyes and licked his lips. "Right now you look just like you did the first time I saw you. In that bikini. Your hair all wet."

"I-I…" I couldn't speak. My tongue had momentarily forgotten how to form words. It hungered for the taste of Dakota—North or South.

"I think it's _your_ turn now. If you're ready."

"My _turn_? My turn for what?"

"Come up here and I'll show you."

My heart was pumping out of control. I obeyed, climbing onto the bed next to him, crawling on my hands and knees.

Slowly, gently, he lifted a hand to untie my bikini top, and in one swift motion he flung it off and tossed it to the floor. The sudden movement made my naked breasts jiggle, and the rush of cold hardened my nipples.

He couldn't help himself. He grabbed my shoulders and gently pushed, and I collapsed obediently, rolling onto my back. He cupped both boobs in his eager hands, clutching them like pillowy doorknobs.

"I've _always_ wanted to do this," he admitted, suddenly embarrassed. "You have the most perfect tits I've ever seen, Love."

"Um…" Really? _Perfect?_ The word made me smile, made me feel embarrassed…and a little smug. "Thank you."

With that fantasy satisfied, he moved down to my bikini bottom.

He coiled his fingers around my swimsuit at the beaded hips, and pulled it off over my bare legs. He dragged his fingers back up my legs, up my thighs, across my hips; I was glad I'd remembered to shave earlier so that my skin was smooth to his touch.

His eyes came back up to meet my own. "What do you like, Candy?"

I tilted my head, thoroughly confused. "You mean…?"

His eyebrows shot up to hide behind his golden fringe and he nodded expectantly.

"How would I know what I like if I've never done it before?"

"Maybe not with someone else…" He twisted his lips into a smutty smile. "Do you ever _touch_ yourself?"

"W-what?" I'd thought about it—_especially_ during those long, lonely nights without Dake—but I honestly didn't know how. "N-no—"

"_Shh_," he shushed me. His voice dropped to a whisper. "I'm going to try something. Tell me if you don't like it, and I'll stop."

He cupped a hand under my knee and pushed gently, separating my legs, spreading me apart.

_Oh my God… Oh my God… Oh my God…_

He kissed my stomach, my hips, my thighs, moving slowly but surely closer to what he so callowly nicknamed the Candy Shop.

At first he teased me with one finger, drawing a straight line in between my lips. Then he knelt down to trace the same line with his warm tongue; it was all I could do to hold still and not scream at the top of my lungs.

The tip of his tongue wedged itself between my wet lips and wandered up, slowly, one millimeter at a time, until it found where my clit had been hiding. I assumed _that_ was what Dake called my 'lollipop,' but a more accurate euphemism would have been my 'self-destruct button.' A shockwave raced up my spine, into my brain, back down again, and over and over as he licked me, his tongue merciful and soft. I yelped, helpless, my reaction delayed, my inhibitions dissolving little by little with every loving kiss.

Without warning, he lifted his head out of the way and jabbed his finger inside me, moving it back and fourth in a 'come here' motion—and I writhed and cringed when the pleasure rolled over me in waves, like the cold ocean had the night before. I couldn't stop a plaintive wail from escaping my wide-open mouth, which scared Dake enough to make him withdraw his hand.

"Are you okay? Do you want me to stop?"

"_No_." No, I was not okay. No, I did not want him to stop. "Don't stop!" I begged.

He sucked my cum from his finger, his lips smacking when he pulled it back out—and a wicked smile spread across his face. "I'm sorry, but I _have_ to stop," he said curtly.

_Hey, no fair!_ "Why?" I demanded, frowning and sitting up.

"I can't stand it anymore, Candy. I want you _now_."

I took a deep breath and nodded. "I want you, too, Dake. Let's do it." But wait! There was something missing… "Do you have—?"

I didn't even have to say it. He was already across the room, crouching down to where he'd thrown his shorts, digging in the pockets for that thing we so desperately needed at this moment. He retrieved it—an unassuming little object, a two-by-two purple square.

His body had been away from mine for maybe ten seconds, but I yearned to have him near again. I lay back down and reached out to him with both arms, my face twisting into a miserable pout.

He returned to my bed and climbed on top of me, his bare skin smooth and firm against mine. He straddled me and tore the condom wrapper open with his teeth. With one hand, he unrolled the ribbed condom over his cock, and with the other, he grabbed me by the hair and pressed his mouth onto mine. The kiss tasted strange—waxy and oily from the condom, salty from our mingling sweat, and surprisingly sweet from my own cum.

_This is it. This is really it. This is the moment._

Dake took my hand in his, kissing each finger gently. "It might hurt the first time," he warned me, his eyes heartbreakingly sad.

My mind was already made up. There was no turning back now. "I know I'll be okay as long as I'm with you."

Dake let go of my hand and positioned himself over me. He moved his hips closer, closer, so close to mine, watching my eyes unblinkingly.

I felt an indescribable stretching—an uncomfortable pressure that made me whimper.

He was in.

"Dake…!" I choked.

"C-Candy…" He was overcome with sensations of his own. He let out a rattling gasp. "You're… You're _so_ tight…"

He forced his way in deeper, deeper, deeper, until I was sure he would split me in half.

I squeezed my eyes shut. My hands balled into fists, pulling at handfuls of the sheets underneath us in a desperate attempt to hold onto something.

At first I thought Dake took pity on me. He drew himself back out, slowly—then plunged into me again, this time completely wet with my cum. It went in easier that time, and with every in-and-out, the pain receded…and the pleasure increased.

I finally understood what all the hype was about. For the first time, I finally _fully_ understood all those song lyrics, all those movies, all those T.V. shows. Even so, every song in existence combined couldn't have been as meaningful as Dake was to me in that moment. His eyes were the color of devotion. His mouth was the shape of fidelity. His breaths made the sound of true love itself.

Each blow sent me reeling, but I swallowed and pushed my hips back into his, trying my best to match his thrusts. I wanted to give him everything he ever wanted. I was his.

"Candy… I can't… I can't do this much longer. You're so beautiful, I'm going to—" He hissed through his teeth and pressed into me harder. "Candy, I'm going to cum."

"I want you to," I whispered. "I want to know what it feels like. I love you, Dake." The last syllable, the sound of my own voice saying my boyfriend's name, made my eyelids flutter. I couldn't believe my body was doing this to him—making him lose control this way. It made me…

It made me…

"I… I love you, too, Candy."

Dake cried out, and his whole body contracted with all-consuming pleasure. He was on top of me, inside me, all around me, draining himself into me with only the thin condom between us.

The reality of what was happening made me dig my fingernails into his back and scream out his name again. "Dake!"

He collapsed, exhausted from the physical and emotional strain.

Both of us lay in a sweaty pile of limp limbs, trying to regain control of our breathing. I let out a few dizzy laughs and hugged him closer to me, my hands gentle where they had clawed into his flesh.

Dake reluctantly sat up and slid the condom off of his still-throbbing cock, careful not to spill the mess of hot while fluid inside it. He turned to me and asked, "Did you cum just then? I couldn't tell."

"Um…" I must have missed my cue somehow—but then again, maybe I didn't. Maybe what just happened was supposed to be an orgasm. Maybe that was why I couldn't stop shaking. "Well… H-how do I _know_ if I did or not? Are you sure _you_ couldn't tell?"

Dake smiled at me, tickled by my naïveté. "It's a bit different for everybody—but trust me, Love, when it happens, you'll know."

"I'm sorry, Dake. You're not disappointed, are you? I didn't know—"

"Stop saying you're sorry for _everything_, Candy!" He kissed my forehead, his lips soft and sweet, the way they had been when he tried to tell me goodbye the first time at the end of that unforgettable summer day last year. "Did you have fun, at least?"

'Fun' was not the right word. There was no word to describe what it felt like. There was no word that meant 'terrifying' and 'enthralling' and 'bittersweet' and 'life-changing' all rolled into one—except perhaps the word 'Dakota.'

At the _very least_, maybe, I would call what we just did 'fun.'

"Yes," I finally answered. "Yes, Dake, I had fun with you."

_And to think…this was only the _first_ time._

He stole the words out of my mind. "How was _that_ for your first time?"

"Perfect," I sighed.

I wanted more. I wanted a whole lifetime of Dake giving me his love, and me giving him mine.

A lifetime… I wasn't sure if that was what he wanted, or if that was even possible, but at least we had a summer of _fun_ ahead of us—assuming his parents would let him stay.

I squinted at the alarm clock on my bedside table, and when the glaring green numbers came into focus, they told me it was already 7PM. Sure enough, the evening sky behind my closed window curtains glowed bluish purple, as the sun had already set.

_Damn, how long were we at it…?_

That still left us with plenty of time before Auntie was supposed to come back at midnight. Both of us were burnt out. I could already feel myself drifting off; it was a struggle to keep my eyes open. I cuddled up next to Dake, and he pulled me into the crook of his neck with a contented sigh, allowing his own heavy eyes to close.

The serene silence was broken by a loud ringtone from across the room, and we both cringed at the noise. I knew it wasn't my phone, so it was obviously Dake's.

_Who could be calling him at a time like this?_

"You don't think that's Boris, do you?" I asked, hoping and praying that his uncle hadn't somehow found out my Auntie wasn't home.

Dake sprang out of bed and retrieved his phone from his shorts pocket, answering it immediately when he saw who was calling. "Mum!"

_…Mum?_

My heart fell into the pit of my stomach, and I mindlessly grabbed for the sheets and pulled them up to hide my nakedness. Of course his mother wouldn't see that we were alone in my Aunt's house, naked, surrounded by strewn articles of clothing—not from over the phone, not from where she was over a thousand miles away in Florida.

"Yeah," Dake told her. "I found her, Mum. I'm with her now. …Facetime?"

_She wants to _Facetime_ with us, as in _see_ what we're doing right now? As in what I just had a waking nightmare about?_

I shook my head at him frantically, the panic welling up in the back of my throat.

_No! Nonononononono!_

But what kind of message would it send if we _didn't_ agree to let her see what we were up to? If we shut her out, she would think that we were up to no good (which we definitely were)—and that Dake couldn't be trusted to stay in Sweet Amoris over the summer.

Dake's expression was equally panicked. Panic was a daily occurrence for me, but was rare for him. He hesitated, scratching his head. "I don't think I can Facetime with my phone anymore, 'cause I dropped it at the airport, remember? …Yeah. The screen is cracked, and I think I broke the camera, too…"

I let the panic out in the form of a sigh and fell back onto my pillow. _ Oh, thank fucking God…!_

He smiled at my outburst, but tried to keep his voice serious. "Yeah…" He fell silent and listened for a while. He came back to bed and sat next to me. "Yeah! Here she is." He handed me the phone.

I ogled back at him, my eyes wide with terror. _Are you out of your mind?_

_It's okay!_ said his gentle smile.

I gulped down the lump in my throat and reached out to take the phone with a shaking hand. "H-hello? Dr. Halloran?"

_Oh, hey, Dr. Halloran! Your baby boy just took my virginity. Yup, he fucked me like a champion. How's _your_ day been?_

I heard her let out a trill of laughter. "Oh, please! Call me Sherry." His mother's voice was candid and genuine, not at all what I expected from a college professor. "It's so nice to finally talk to you, Candy! So, tell me honestly, has _he_ been behaving?"

I cast a fleeting glance at the wet condom on the floor. _No, he's been very, very naughty—and I wouldn't have him any other way._ "Y-yes!" I chortled, my smile quivering.

She snorted delightedly. "Oh, you kids! You keep me young! Well, I just wanted to say hi. I don't want to keep you long. I know you're probably busy _catching up_."

_Oh, God. She knows!_

"O-okay. It was nice meeting you, Dr.—um—Sherry…" I returned Dake's phone to him, shaking my head and cursing my inability to speak.

He held it to his ear. "Mum? You still there?" I could hear her tinny voice on the other end, but I couldn't make out the words. As he listened, his eyes got brighter and brighter. "You're sure? _Thank you_, Mum! Love to Dad. Love you, too. Bye." He ended the call and dropped his phone uncaringly to the floor.

"What did she say?"

"She told me I could stay here with Boris for the summer." He climbed on top of me, kissing my stomach. "Here with _you_."

I twisted my fingers into his hair, pulling it gently. "Does this mean we're doing this again tomorrow?"

"Hell, I'd do it again _right now_ if I wasn't so zonked," he sighed regretfully, tracing my lips with his fingertip.

_Oh, Dake, you and your goofy made-up Australian words…_ "You poor thing! I didn't mean to _zonk_ you."

"Nah, I liked it," he admitted. "I _loved_ it." He climbed up to kiss my lips, sloppily rolling all his sweet tastes across my tongue.

He could tell I was every bit was 'zonked' as he was, so we curled up under the sheets and fell into a deep, long-awaited, blissful sleep.

I didn't have any dreams. I didn't need to. My dream already came true, and he was holding me in his arms.


End file.
